


Dearly Beloved

by spiffymittens



Series: Dearly Beloved [1]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Dirty Talk, Gay Rights, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Political AF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 00:05:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15107591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffymittens/pseuds/spiffymittens
Summary: Simon’s throat closed up. He swallowed hard, took Bram’s face in his hands. “We’ll be fine,” he said firmly. “We’re together, that’s the most important thing, right?” Bram nodded, pressed his lips into a thin line and looked up at the ceiling as he tried to control his tears.





	Dearly Beloved

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been stewing all day about what Anthony Kennedy’s resignation from the Supreme Court could mean for my LGBT+ friends, women, the environment, hell, the whole damn country. So yup, this is political as fuck, and anyone who has a problem with that can eat a big old bag of dicks. And not in the fun way.

What ended up being one of the most important weeks of Simon’s life started out normally enough. Though it was summer, he’d set his alarm for 8. He and Bram had a long day of nothing much planned and he didn’t mean to waste time getting started.

After twice-monthly visits all year (for the second year in a row, at that), it was pure luxury to just hang out together for hours, for days, with no need to watch the clock, to catch the train, to say goodbye. Long hours wrapped around each other in bed, or laying in the backyard hammock with books and lemonade, or laughing with friends who were also home for the summer.

Today they had planned to go to the mall and buy Bram’s little brother a present, in anticipation of their upcoming trip to Savannah. Followed by lunch and, Simon hoped, a bit of sans-clothing fun time before he had to go to work at his summer job. Bram, who was interning at a local magazine three days a week, had the day off; Simon, who was a server at a peanuts-on-the-floor type steakhouse, did not. Which meant he had a little over eight hours until his shift started, which meant he was motivated to get out the door at a decent time.

The whole way over he spent daydreaming, like the total goddamn sap he was, about the warm smile he would see on Bram’s face when he opened the door. It was a smile nobody else got to see—loving, content, and, when Simon was _very_ good, filthy as all hell.

But Bram’s smile, when he finally yanked the door open for Simon, was an anxious ghost of its usual self. After an absent-minded peck on the lips, Bram walked back into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around himself as if he were cold. His mother had already left for work.

Simon toed off his shoes just inside the door, feeling the first stirrings of fear. “Babe, are you okay?”

Bram paused at the coffeemaker, hands gripping the countertop. His knuckles were white. “I’m...fine. Want a cup?”

“The hell you are,” Simon said, hugging Bram from behind to gentle his blunt words. “What’s the matter?”

Bram turned in the circle of Simon’s arms and hugged him back. Simon closed his eyes in relief. Bram laid his cheek on Simon’s temple and rocked back and forth, sighing. “I’m sorry. I’m probably making too much of it. But I just...it’s…” He huffed in annoyance and his breath fanned across Simon’s ear. “Anthony Kennedy just announced he’s retiring from the Supreme Court.”

“That’s bad?” Simon asked, embarrassed at his ignorance. He’d been trying to pay more attention to current events since Bram declared a journalism major, but sometimes the news felt so distant from his everyday life.

Bram answered, still rocking: “Four of the justices are conservative right now and four are liberal. Kennedy’s the swing vote. Sometimes he goes right and sometimes he goes left—like on the case that decided for gay marriage. But now they’re going to replace him with a conservative and that means conservative decisions across the board.”

Simon stopped the soothing rocking and pulled back. “Can they...can they make gay marriage illegal again?” His stomach felt like it was full of rocks.

Bram answered carefully, frowning and looking down as he thought. “I don’t know. I’ve been reading about it all morning. The court doesn’t usually overturn previous decisions, but sometimes they do. It seems like the worst they could do is make it a state-by-state issue again, but I don’t know.”

He let go of Simon and started pacing, hands hooked behind his neck. “It’s just such bullshit,” he whispered. “I thought we were making progress these past couple years. I thought we were safe.” He looked up and there were tears in his eyes.

Simon felt gutted. He and Bram had rarely talked about their future together—it seemed like tempting fate, somehow, when so many high school romances flamed out, even without the long distance factor thrown in. But they’d been together almost four years, and the amorphous daydreams he’d first had at 17 were taking on a more solid shape at 20: Bram on one knee with a ring in his hand. Bram in a tux with a blinding smile, meeting him at the end of an aisle. Bram and a house that needed a little work. Bram in pajama pants and an old Hawks t-shirt rocking a baby, telling Simon to go ahead to bed, he’d get her down to sleep.

Simon’s throat closed up. He swallowed hard, took Bram’s face in his hands. “We’ll be fine,” he said firmly. “We’re together, that’s the most important thing, right?” Bram nodded, pressed his lips into a thin line and looked up at the ceiling as he tried to control his tears.

Simon put his arms around Bram’s waist and pressed his face into his boyfriend’s neck, needing the reassurance. He breathed deeply, his nose filling with the warm, clean smell of Bram: cocoa butter and soap and something purely Bram, familiar as home. Bram threw one arm over Simon’s shoulders and plunged the other into his hair, clinging to him just as hard.

Simon nudged Bram’s t-shirt collar aside and kissed the taut skin there, alive and bunching with muscle as Bram tensed. He suddenly felt as if he couldn’t get close enough to Bram, all his fear and love and longing coalescing into a sharp spike of desire. Christ, his fucking _smell_.

He fisted his hands in Bram’s shirt and kissed a trail from his shoulder up to his ear. “I need you,” he whispered urgently.

Bram pulled back immediately, his hurt, wild eyes still glistening with tears as he yanked Simon’s t-shirt off. He pulled his own off and collapsed back against Simon as if gravity willed it, their mouths meeting in an almost violent clash of tongues and teeth. Simon raked his nails down Bram’s back, deliberately scratching him.

 _Mine_ , he thought, tears tracking down his cheeks. No law, no judge could take those marks away. He sucked a bruising kiss just above Bram’s nipple and whispered it into his chest. “ _Mine._ ” Bram tightened his fingers in Simon’s hair and pulled him closer. “Yours,” he half-sobbed, pushing his hips against Simon’s.

It had never been like this before. It had been self-conscious and new, it had been loving and slow, it had been laughing and ticklish, it had been fast and desperate, especially after long absences. But Simon had never felt anything like this frenzy, this animalistic need before. He wanted to fuck Bram, to claim him, to scream his own bones apart, to push their bodies together until their muscles twined together and held fast.

Bram wrenched himself away from Simon and grabbed his hand, then pulled him down the hall to his bedroom. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Bram yanked Simon around by the hand and trapped him up against the wall, leaning in to capture Simon’s mouth in a filthy kiss. His hand dropped to Simon’s jeans and squeezed his stony cock. “Need you now,” he breathed, and his other hand joined the first, scrabbling to undo Simon’s buttons.

Impatient, Simon batted Bram’s hands away and undid his own jeans, then pushed them and his underwear off. Bram shucked off his sleep pants and boxers in record time, then they fell back together, this time with Bram pinned to the wall. Bram moaned helplessly as Simon pushed his thigh between his legs. “What do you want, what do you want, Simon,” he begged, shamelessly grinding against Simon’s thigh.

Simon could barely think, but the need to claim Bram, to fucking _mate_ with him pulsed through him again.

“Oh god, I want you so much. Need to fuck you,” Simon panted. “But first I want to taste that beautiful cock.”

“God yes. Need that too, need you to suck me,” Bram moaned, pushing Simon’s shoulders down. Simon dropped to his knees and leaned in, laying wet, open-mouthed kisses on the base of Bram’s cock, the head, his hips. He sucked one of Bram’s balls into his mouth and then ducked his head and licked further back, gently nipping the tiny bridge of skin behind them as Bram, quiet, sensible Bram, spread his legs wider and moaned a steady stream of profanities. “Oh Jesus yes yes yes Simon _yes_ ,” he chanted.

Simon pulled back up to Bram’s cock and sucked as much of it as he could into his mouth, greedily inhaling the musky scent, moaning and rubbing his hands into Bram’s pubic hair to get more of it.

“Oh fuck, Simon, I’m gonna…” Bram wailed, and shook with a silent scream as Simon’s mouth flooded with the brackish taste of semen.

 _This is my body_ , Simon thought as he swallowed, closing his eyes. He surged up Bram’s body and kissed him deeply, letting Bram taste himself, grinding his aching cock against Bram’s hip.

“Bram, need you now,” Simon ground out and turned them around, pushing Bram between the shoulder blades until he was bent over the bed. Bram went willingly, still shivering from his orgasm, and oh god, he was so beautiful, heaving and sweat slick, waiting for Simon to take him.

Simon grabbed a condom from the bedside table and rolled it on, grappling for breath, for self-control. He wanted to bay at the moon but he never wanted to hurt Bram. He coated his cock with lube then applied a generous gob to Bram’s hole, easing first one, then two fingers in, twisting them in and out, then scissoring them to stretch him open. Bram sobbed and pushed back on Simon’s fingers and it was almost enough to make Simon come right then and there.

One of the things that always made Bram and him laugh: when people met the two of them, big, athletic Bram and small, geeky Simon, they tended to assume that Simon was the bottom. As if any gay man was all top or bottom, but still. Little did they know exactly how much big, muscular Bram loved being pushed down and fucked hard by his theater nerd boyfriend.

“Simon please,” he begged now, and Simon couldn’t deny him. He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his cock, pushing in gently, gently, oh god slow, don’t hurt him, slow, and bowed over Bram’s back, shuddering with the ecstasy of the soft heat gripping his cock.

They both lay still for an endless moment as Bram adjusted to Simon’s thick cock. Simon made himself wait, rubbing his thumb reassuringly on the small of Bram’s back even as the urge to thrust burned through him. Finally Bram whispered, “Ok, you can...ok now, please, please, Simon, please.” His breathy little moans as he fucked himself back on Simon’s cock almost drove Simon up the wall.

Still molded to Bram’s back, Simon felt anew the urge to _take_ , to _possess_. He licked a broad stripe up the skin between Bram’s shoulder blades, loving the salty taste, and levered himself up, grabbing Bram by the waist. _Mine_ , he thought again as he snapped his hips in a timeless rhythm, his balls slapping heavily against Bram’s with every thrust.

Bram fisted his hands in the sheets and wailed as Simon fucked him, pounding at him with his cock and his words. “Oh fuck, is this how you like it?” Simon babbled. “Bent over and spreading your legs for me like a good boy? Do you need my cock in your ass every minute of every fucking day? You’re mine, mine, _mine_ , and nobody’s ever gonna take you away from me.”

“Yes oh god yes, fuck me fuck me please I’m yours” Bram cried, prayed, begged and Simon threw back his head and fucking _howled_ , his hips jerking as he emptied himself.

He collapsed over Bram’s back, both of them shaking and heaving from the strength of their orgasms. Slowly Simon’s fever left him and he pulled out of Bram, wincing at the feel of the lube painting his thighs. He tied off the condom and dropped it in the trash, then went into the bathroom for a washcloth. He wiped himself off first, then grabbed a clean washcloth and wet it for Bram. When he came out, He saw that Bram had rolled onto his back and pulled himself all the way onto the bed, come smeared across his stomach. His eyes were unreadable as Simon approached him and tenderly wiped him down with the warm, wet cloth.

Simon threw the cloth into the laundry bin and laid on the bed, tucking himself up to his boyfriend’s side. Bram pulled the covers over them and wrapped his arms around Simon, resting his cheek against his forehead as they had done earlier, before the madness had descended on them both.

“Should we talk about this?” Simon asked, feeling suddenly a little shy. He couldn’t half-believe some of the things he’d said to Bram, even though the air was still practically ringing with them.

“I guess, if you want to?” Bram said, stroking his hands slowly up and down Simon’s back.

“I mean, we said some pretty crazy stuff,” Simon said, a blush staining his cheeks. “And maybe did some pretty crazy stuff too.”

Bram pulled back until they could make eye contact and there was the Bram he had been looking for all morning, the one he knew: sweet, embarrassed smile and sparkling eyes.

“Maybe crazy is okay sometimes, if that’s what we both need,” Bram said. “And I guess we both needed it. I...really liked it, honestly.” He ducked his head a little.

Simon huffed out a laugh. “I could tell.” Then he frowned, remembering the news that had precipitated their frantic interlude. He cupped Bram’s dear face in his hand, rubbing his thumb across his cheek. “I meant what I said,” he whispered, a touch of the morning’s panic threading through his veins again. “Nobody’s ever gonna take you away from me, not if you want to be with me.”

Bram’s eyes welled with love and anguish. “Okay,” he whispered, and turned his face to Simon’s hand, kissing his palm. Then he hugged Simon to him, and if their breaths were a little ragged, there was no one to know but each other.


End file.
